$42m land rights dream in ruins

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A community's wish for self-sufficiency is mired in conflict,
writes Ben Hills.

It was hailed as the greatest deal in the history of the land
rights movement, one that would set a new model for Aboriginal
self-determination in the 21st century.

Last year, after a decade of negotiation, the 800 members of the
Darkinjung community agreed to sell 41 hectares of their heritage,
beachfront land on the Central Coast to a developer for $42
million. The money was to be secured in a watertight trust and
invested in businesses. The proceeds would provide low-cost housing
loans, aged-care facilities and funeral costs for the needy
community.

Now that dream of self-sufficiency - and freedom from what the
Aboriginal leader Noel Pearson has called "the poison of welfare" -
is in tatters. Angry in-fighting and allegations of violence have
riven the community. The independent directors appointed to
safeguard the money, including the former City of Sydney councillor
Kathryn Greiner, have resigned. More than $1 million, almost the
community's entire income for 21 months, has been spent on legal
costs. A QC has said the transfer of the community's money to the
trust was unlawful, and a court has frozen the assets.

And last week the NSW Aboriginal Affairs Minister, Andrew
Refshauge, appointed an "independent investigator" to look into the
council's finances, sometimes a precursor to sacking a council and
appointing an administrator to run the business.

The trouble has been simmering since Darkinjung became
Australia's wealthiest land council in February last year when the
developer Mirvac agreed to pay $42 million for the land, on which
it is building the luxury Magenta Shores resort and golf-course.
The first instalment, $18.5 million, has been handed over, with the
balance due over the next three years.

It came to a head at a rowdy meeting of the Darkinjung Local
Aboriginal Council on December 14. According to Jack Smith, an
elder and co-founder of the council, there was uproar when he
questioned the "dictatorial behaviour" of the council's chairman,
Jeff Bradford, and called for an investigation of its finances by
the Independent Commission Against Corruption.

During a break, Smith says, the council's chief executive,
Damien Aidon, "rushed at me like a mad dog with his fist raised,
accusing me of numerous things". Aidon denies there were any
threats or actual violence, and Bradford says "it's bullshit".

But Smith went to the police, and in Wyong Local Court was
granted an interim apprehended violence order against Aidon. The
allegation will be fully argued in court on April 29.

A week after the tense meeting, the two independent directors of
the company established to act as trustee for the money, Darkinjung
Pty Ltd, Greiner and the land rights lawyer Stephen Goddard, quit.
In her letter of resignation, on file with the Australian
Securities and Investments Commission, Greiner said Bradford
"persistently and for nefarious reasons" refused to call a board
meeting to discuss investment strategies for the money, and legal
advice she believed questioned the validity of the trust.

She accuses Bradford of "an arrogant attempt at obfuscation" and
"dereliction of duty". Greiner and Goddard have called for the
council to be sacked and an administrator to be called in. But
Bradford says he wanted to inform the Darkinjung community before
he shared the information with Greiner and Goddard, and the two
"spat the dummy" when they did not get their way.

Two days after they resigned, John Basten, QC, produced an
opinion for the NSW Aboriginal Land Council that transfer of money
to the trust was unlawful. Bradford says he has opinions from two
other senior counsel saying it was not.

And the next day, Christmas Eve, the registrar of Aboriginal
Land Rights obtained an order in the Land and Environment Court
that the council produce audit reports and legal advice, and
freezing the money - or what is left of it.

Bradford says $5 million has been spent buying cattle, which are
agisted at properties near Albury, Wagga and Holbrook. "We are
exporting containers of beef to customers in Japan - the business
is going in leaps and bounds."

But the Darkinjung council's accounts, obtained by the
Herald, show that in the 21 months to last June the council
had spent $1.1 million, almost its entire income of $1.4 million
for that period, on legal and consultancy costs. As at June 30 it
had a $645,000 deficit.

Bradford says the money was spent fighting attempts by the NSW
Aboriginal Land Council to stop Darkinjung achieving
self-determination. "They can't stand to see black fellows
controlling their own affairs. There is no point in having all this
dough unless you can do something with it for the community."

On Friday he was informed that Refshauge had appointed a
Deloitte accountant, Tim Kelly, to investigate "all affairs of the
Darkinjung [council] including its efficiency and
effectiveness".

"The investigator won't find a bloody thing," he predicted.
"This is the most effective and efficient land council around."

He said that if the appointment damaged Darkinjung's budding
businesses he would take action in the Supreme Court to recover
damages from the Government.

But Bob Graham, deputy mayor of Wyong, has a different take. "I
predicted this would happen, this fighting over the money. A few
years ago there were 80 members of the council, now there are 800 -
they even invited me to join, and I have no Aboriginal blood."

So the first step has been taken towards dismantling Bradford's
dream. Within months the Darkinjung council will probably be
replaced by an administrator.

Another Aboriginal bureaucrat said: "It's a tragedy, a real
tragedy. It's like those cases you hear about where someone wins
Lotto and suddenly their whole life goes sour."